The morning sun was shining; the breeze matched the rhythm of the music I listen to while opening the office. As I moved along the sidewalk, my feet matched the rhythm, too. A few fingers on my right hand, dark from the dirt and mulch.
That’s when it caught my eye.
Recently, I was pulling weeds at work. It’s not the most glamourous part of my job…and it’s really important. I don’t pull the weeds because it’s my favorite thing to do. Although, I do love getting my hands in dirt. I pull the weeds because the beauty that follows matters. I pull the weeds because our families are worth a welcoming space. I pull the weeds because of what happens if I don’t.
As I began to turn the corner, a weed further down the sidewalk caught my eye. For a brief moment, I thought about leaving it alone. It was at the far end of the sidewalk, an area where there’s not a lot of traffic, our families generally don’t park, and I don’t often walk. But once I noticed it, there was no unnoticing it. I changed directions and walked toward the weed.
What I expected was to pull a weed and be done with it. What I didn’t expect was to encounter God’s kindness in the process.
As I got closer, it quickly became evident that the weed, growing in an area where I don’t generally turn my attention, had been there for a while, unnoticed, unpulled. While it’s commonly understood that roots are important for healthy plants, I soon realized roots are important for weeds, too. Left intended, they grow, their grip tighter and more firm.
Just as important as nurturing healthy roots is the removal of ones that are not.
I began pulling out the weed. It was more than a tiny weed requiring only a small pull. I had to move the dirt and mulch. I had to get my hands dirty and dig it out. And just when I thought I had it, I uncovered more. The roots went deeper. I had to keep working before it finally broke free.
When the weed broke free, an audible giggle escaped with it. Before embracing it, I wondered how trivial my joy might appear over a pulled weed. There was such satisfaction in seeing and feeling it come out. As I looked at what I had just worked to get out of the ground, I heard “it’s worth it and it matters.” In that moment, I was no longer looking at a weed. I was looking at the promise that says,
“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion…” Philippians 1:6
I wonder, how often do I struggle to do the hard work of healing because of the grip of fear? Because the unknown and what ifs paralyze me? Because I lose sight of the beauty I know will be worth it?
God used a weed I wanted to ignore, to gently remind and assure me He is worth my trust, the work of healing is worth the effort, and I am worth the investment.
And so are you.
